


We'll Burn Together

by orphan_account



Category: Falling in Reverse, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), Panic! at the Disco, The Brobecks
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Demon Ryan, Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 19:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11493324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dallon couldn’t do anything as he sat on his couch, hearing Ryan’s pained screams through the roaring fire on the other line of the call.





	1. Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to not-bodies and dallnweeks over on Tumblr for helping me come up with ideas for this fic
> 
> I'm totally not crying

Ryan had packed up his bags last night to go to Dallon’s house. Dallon was sick and bedridden and Ryan just wanted to be a good friend and take care of him, so he had called an Uber beforehand and it just arrived outside his house. It was a sunny day with just the perfect amount of breezes to keep cool enough. The driver stepped out of the car and unlocked the trunk when Ryan stepped out of his house and locked the door, before placing the small suitcase into the trunk of the sedan, before getting into the car behind the driver seat, putting on the seat belt. His heart started beating faster as the driver got into the car and started to drive. 

“So what are you going to Salt Lake City for?” The driver asked, trying to make small talk. 

“I just wanted to visit a friend,” Ryan said. He started lightly patting a rhythm on his thighs, a nervous tick he had developed as a drummer. Ryan saw the driver nod in the rearview mirror. 

 

Ryan wasn’t really fond of other people driving when he’s in the car along with him. The fear developed when he was in another Uber a couple years ago swerved off the road and crashed into a building. Luckily, no one was majorly injured. It had hailed a few nights ago and Ryan’s car suffered some damage, broken windshields and windows, unfit for driving, so it was in the shop to get fixed up. He hated when other people, specifically strangers drive but kept his cool. 

 

They started going down the mountain when Ryan received a phone call from Dallon. He quickly plugged his earbuds in and answered the call. “Hey!” Ryan said quickly.

“Hey, you on your way?” Dallon asked. He sounded horrible.

“Yeah, it’ll be a while though,” Ryan responded. 

Dallon hummed. “I’m sorry to make you come over, I know your car is wrecked and you get really nervous when someone else drives,” Dallon murmured, sounding guilty. 

“It’s fine,” Ryan reassured. “I can handle it.” 

“You want to stay on the call?” The other asked. “Might help with nerves.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Ryan’s stomach dropped a bit as they started going down the mountain. His heart rate sped up and he let out a shaky breath. 

“You’ll be alright, okay? Just breath,” Dallon instructed on the other line. Ryan followed the instructions as best as he could when the car turned down the wavy path. 

Dallon started humming one of their old songs to comfort Ryan. He leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes, listening to Dallon. He jolted back into reality when the car’s brake stuttered before the car slowed down on another turn, but Ryan tried not to pay any attention to it. He was lightly shaking now. It got smoother as the car continued down the mountain.

 

* * *

 

 

They started speeding up the further down the mountain and Ryan opened his eyes. The driver gave Ryan a panicked look from the rearview mirror. 

“Dude, I’m so fucking sorry,” they whispered. 

“What?” Ryan asked.

Dallon stopped humming. “What’s wrong?” 

Ryan opened his mouth to say something but the car launched off the side of the mountain, breaking the barrier. “Ryan?” Dallon was panicked now. Ryan just braced himself as the front of the car smashed into the ground, before spinning and bouncing down the mountain. Ryan let out a pained shout as his head smashed into the window before the car stopped near the base of the mountain, flipped upside down and a complete wreck. “Ryan! What happened?” Dallon asked. 

Ryan coughed tried to unlock this seat belt. It came off, but he couldn’t move. He looked up. Blood dripped down onto Ryan's face. His legs were crushed behind the driver’s seat.

“H-hey Dallon?” Ryan asked quietly, grabbing his phone off the ceiling of the car. 

“What?” Dallon asked. Worry and panic were clear in his voice.

“W-would,” Ryan grunted and took a deep breath before continuing. The realization of the situation was starting to hit him. “Would you come to my funeral?” His tears started mixing with the blood dripping down from his crushed legs. He smelled gasoline.

“What? Ryan, what happened? Was there a crash?” Dallon asked, nearing a panic attack. 

“Yeah,” Ryan exhaled. He looked over to the driver. They didn’t move, and it was clear to Ryan that either they were knocked out, or knocked dead. The car tipped over again, steel scraped against the jagged rocks creating sparks. The gasoline ignited. “Ryan! You’re going to be alright!” Dallon yelled. 

Ryan dryly chuckled. “No, I’m not going to be alright. I can’t move.” His voice started breaking as he stared into the fire on the right side of the car. 

“Hang on, I’m calling the cops!” Dallon exclaimed, putting his phone on speaker and went into his living room as quickly as he could, picking up the landline ad quickly punched in 911. Ryan could hear the phone ringing on the other line through the fire. 

His vision started blurring and he heard Dallon telling the operator about the crash before hanging up. “You still there? Ryan?” Dallon asked. He was crying at this point. He couldn't help but think that it was partially his fault Ryan got into the crash. If he wasn't sick then this wouldn't have happened. “Paramedics are coming, hang in there!” Dallon said. 

“It’s no use Dallon,” Ryan muttered. He glanced over to the fire, It was in the car now and some surrounding trees started burning and smoking. The heat was unbearable, but he couldn't do anything about it. “The fire’s getting closer. Surely you can hear it,” Ryan whispered, coughing. 

“Ryan,” Dallon’s voice cracked. 

“Promise me something, Dallon, promos me that you’ll focus more on your life than mine,” Ryan requested. 

Dallon couldn't respond. 

Ryan coughed again and used his last remaining strength to pull out the earbuds and threw his phone out the broken window. He let himself cry as flames engulfed the entire car. 

Dallon couldn’t do anything as he sat on his couch, hearing Ryan’s pained screams through the roaring fire on the other line of the call.

The screams stopped and were replaced with sirens. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might be a bit wonky cause I had no fucking idea how to write it properly??
> 
> But huge thanks to not-bodies on Tumblr for being a babe and helping me with this <3

Dallon was in shock and Ryan’s screams echoed in his ears. The sirens had stopped now, and Dallon could hear pounding footsteps, a helicopter flying overhead, along with rushing water. The flames hissed and Dallon continued listening in, silent. There were incoherent voices and metal creaking before something broke and fell. There were more voices and a pair of footsteps stopped at Ryan’s phone. “Hello? Is someone on the other line?” A voice asked. 

Dallon snapped back into reality and wiped away some tears. “Y-yeah.”

There was a sad sigh. “Do you know what happened?” They asked in a calm voice. There were more noises in the background. 

“Some of it,” Dallon said. 

“Can you come down to the station?” They asked. “Forensics will be here soon.”

“Where is it?” Dallon asked. 

“Where are you right now?” They asked.

“In my house, Salt Lake City.” 

“It’s about a half hour drive from Salt Lake City, can you make it? If you can’t I can send someone there to pick you up. What’s your name?” 

“Dallon, please send someone.”

“I’m Spencer,” they introduced. There were more incoherent voices.

“Alright, what’s your address?” Another voice asked. 

Dallon gave them his address and they hung up. He didn’t know what to do after that. Ryan died because Dallon was sick, because Ryan wanted to come and take care of him for a few days, regardless of whether or not his car was wrecked, even if he had a crippling fear of other people driving, Ryan was selfless enough to take a taxi down to Salt Lake City despite his crippling fear, and Dallon couldn’t help but blame himself. He didn’t know what else to do but to sit and wait for the cop arriving to pick him up. He tried not to think and shut out every thought.

 

* * *

 

Dallon didn’t realize he was staring at the wall in front of him for a half hour until there was a knock at his door. Dallon sniffed and picked up his hoodie off the couch and his keys from the end table and put it on before putting on his shoes and opening the front door. The cop the other dude sent was there, looking awkward. “I’m here to take you to the station,” he said. Dallon nodded and locked the door behind him. The cop leads Dallon to the patrol car and opened the back door for him. Dallon got into the car and the officer closed the door before getting in the car himself.

* * *

 

Dallon didn’t try to talk to the cop and they didn’t try to talk to Dallon. They arrived at the police station and Dallon got out of the car and let the other officer lead the way into the building and one of the interrogation rooms near the back. 

They knocked on the door and someone said something from the other side, Dallon didn’t pay attention to what was said. “Spencer’s waiting for you.” They spoke softly and Dallon appreciated that. 

They opened the door and Dallon walked into the room and the door was closed behind him. “You must be Dallon, take a seat,” Spencer said.

Dallon nodded sitting down on one of the leather padded chairs and started tapping his foot. 

“I know you must be shocked, but can you tell me what happened?” Spencer asked. 

Dallon took a deep breath. “I called Ryan when they were going down the mountain, I know he gets nervous when he’s in a car with a stranger driving so I tried to comfort him,” Dallon started.

Spencer nodded and wrote some things down. “Is that his name? Ryan?”

Dallon nodded. “Ryan Seaman.”

“Can you tell me why he gets nervous?”

“He was in a minor car accident once. The driver just randomly swerved off the road and crashed into a building,” Dallon explained. 

“Can you tell me what happened next?” Spencer wrote some more things down. 

“I tried to comfort him. It worked for a while but the driver said something to Ryan, I couldn't hear it but it sounded like ‘sorry.’ Next thing I knew there was a crash, glass was breaking, and more crashes.” Dallon sniffled and pretended it was his cold. 

Spencer moved a box of tissues in front of Dallon but he didn't touch it. He didn't know if he should tell Spencer what Ryan had said to him, but decided not to tell everything. “He said that he couldn't move, I called the cops, something must have happened and then there was a fire. I'm guessing Ryan threw his phone and he started screaming when I heard sirens.” Dallon blinked away some tears. 

“Do you need anything? Food? Water? Spencer offered. 

Dallon shook his head. 

“Thank you for telling me what you know, Dallon. Do you want me to inform on what you what we find out?” Spencer asked. 

Part of Dallon didn't want to know the gruesome details of Ryan's death, but another part needed closure, to find out what the hell had happened, so he nodded. 

“Alright,” Spencer said.

 

* * *

  
  


The other officer that introduced himself Jon drove him back home. He didn’t say anything to Dallon who just stared out the moving scenery out the car window. Dallon noticed that Jon kept looking back at Dallon through the rearview mirror quite a bit and he looked like he wanted to talk about something. Dallon paid no attention to him. He just wished that it would be a dream, that he would wake up and everything would be back to normal. “We’re approaching the scene. You want to see it?” Jon asked. Spencer had given them permission if they wanted to go. He thought maybe it would give Dallon some closure, but Jon didn’t think that seeing the burnt crash scene where his friend burned to death would provide any sort of closure. 

Dallon could see some firefighters scanning the area and spraying down the darkened ground. 

“Sure,” Dallon whispered. He just had to see. 

 

* * *

 

Ryan was moving. He couldn’t see, open his eyes, or hear, but everything hurt, he couldn’t feel anything, but he was moving. Then there were muffled voices, getting closer and closer. He stopped moving. There were more voices and something poked him. He couldn’t move. 

 

He was back in the car, the small sedan made its way down the mountain. Ryan was confused, he knew what happened was real, this wasn’t. It felt too surreal. He didn’t have his phone or his headphones in and the scenery was moving by too fast. This time, Ryan didn’t feel paranoia, and the drive drove straight off the mountain. Ryan didn’t react. They crashed into the ground and Ryan’s head hit the back of the seat, the front of the car crumpled into itself and Ryan’s legs got crushed, bones snapped, and glass broke, steel folded in on itself and the car broke chunks of rock wherever the car landed. They came to a stop, the fire started immediately, then there was nothing. 

 

Ryan woke up again and he was in the car again, this time they were already tumbling half way down the mountain.  Ryan just seemed hyperaware of everything now, everything was the way it had happened, Dallon's breath stopping, bones, rocks and glass breaking, the driver's seat pushing back on his legs. He could feel every fracture and break. When the fire started, he could feel every individual bead of sweat before the flames burned and melted his skin. Then, there was excruciating pain, then again, nothing.

 

The memory repeated itself again and again, each time was different than the last, some were more painful, some just plain fake. Ryan no longer felt fear whenever the memory replayed itself. Instead, it was a burning hatred for everything. But in every replay of the memory, there was no sign of Dallon anywhere. His voice wasn’t plaything through his earbuds, just in his mind.

 

* * *

 

“You think he’s awake?” A forensics dude asked. He rolled up his sleeves and his skin was covered in tattoos. 

“Should be. We did it perfectly!” A paramedic exclaimed, crossing her arms, staring at a wall of the crematorium. 

“Could be too damaged,” the forensic scientist said. 

“Yeah. Let’s just splash him with water,” the paramedic suggested.

“Do you not see the burns? You’ll fuck him up more than he already is!” He said.

She glared at him, her voice was cold and cut through the air like a knife. “Why would we even want him?”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow them, and that means turning as many as we can to the best of our ability.” 

“I still don’t understand why though.” 

“Maybe a war against humanity?” 

“Why humanity? Why not heaven or something?” 

He shrugged and placed some scalpels on a metal tray. “Why does anything happen?” He asked sarcastically. “Didn’t you know him when you were alive?” 

“Yeah. That doesn’t really matter now, does it, Ronnie?” She asked. 

“I guess not.” He muttered. He took a syringe out of its package and filled it with morphine. Ronnie moved over to Ryan’s still body and pushed the needle into his arm. 

“Taking mercy?” The woman asked in a mocking tone. 

Ronnie scoffed. “Hardly.” He pressed down on the plunger and watched as the clear liquid got pushed into Ryan’s burned arm until there was nothing left and pulled out the needle before throwing it away. Ronnie groaned. “This is fucking annoying.”

“You’re telling me.”

 

* * *

 

The memories started blurring and bleeding together, melding into a giant mess. The events of the crash played out of order and everything was distorted. Ryan couldn’t feel pain anymore, he just felt numb. The memories stopped playing, and he’s never been happier. He opened his eyes and was staring directly at a large fluorescent light overhead. “Look who’s back in the land of the living. Well, partially,” a voice to his left said. Ryan looked over and saw a man with long black hair and a whole map of tattoos on his arms and neck. The man blinked and his eyes turned completely jet black.

Ryan didn’t flinch and saw a woman standing further away, leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed. 

“How do you feel? Or maybe what?” The man asked, picking up some silver scissors. 

“Am I supposed to?” Ryan asked. He turned and looked at his arm. The skin was darkened with large red patches.  _ ‘Right. The burns.’ _

The man made a face. “Depends? I’m Ronnie,” he introduced. 

Ryan hummed and sat up and scanned his surroundings. The woman was gone and there was a set of scalpels on a metal tray next to the table he was lying on. 

“Wow, you can sit up,” he muttered. “Morphine’s some good shit.” 

_ ‘So that’s what poked me,’ _ Ryan thought. He felt very different, and it wasn’t because of the morphine.

“You know, you’re taking this quite well,” he said.

“The fuck are you?” Ryan asked, swinging his legs over the table. He noticed that there were darker chunks of matter fused to his skin and assumed they were parts of his clothes. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” 

Ryan leaped off the table and made a grab for one of the scalpels. Ronnie reacted quickly, grabbing Ryan’s shoulder, knocking down the tray of tools and threw him a good distance away, the air getting knocked out of Ryan as he hit the ground. Ronnie walked over to Ryan and grabbed his neck, applying light pressure. “You try that again and I’ll snap your fucking neck,” he growled, pressing harder. 

Ryan grabbed at Ronnie’s arms as a futile attempt to get him off. His vision was turning dark and he could feel his skin tingling. “Ronnie!” The woman from before yelled. Ronnie looked back and his grip loosened enough for Ryan to break free. He kicked Ronnie off and scrambled for one of the fallen scalpels and ran towards the door. The other man got up and charged at Ryan. Ryan didn't even realize he made a move until Ronnie’s neck was sliced open and blood started gushing out of the wound. Ryan stood there, shocked and trying to regain some more air as Ronnie held his neck, suffocating, and fell on the ground. “Wasn't expecting that,” the woman said, walking closer. She was holding a pistol in one hand and a bag in the other.

She looked so familiar, but Ryan couldn't quite place it. Chunks of his memories were gone. She looked at Ronnie and scoffed. “Serves him right. Follow me,” she ordered, leading him to the other side of the room to a furnace. 

“What are you?” Ryan asked. 

“We're demons, you didn't realize?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.  

Ryan grunted. As absurd as it sounded, it made sense. His skin kept tingling and he looked at his arms. His skin was returning to its normal color, the red patches were gone and the burnt skin healed, leaving behind scar tissue. 

“In all fairness, you're taking it quite well.”

“What did you do?” Ryan asked, looking at her face. Her eyes weren't black like Ronnie’s were. 

“You died in the crash, we brought you here and poof, you're now one of us,” she briefly explained. 

The wheels in Ryan's head started turning. 

There was an animalistic growl and Ryan looked back. Ronnie got up off the floor, the large cut on his neck had healed. 

“Move,” the woman whispered.

Ryan did as she said and took a step to the right. She raised the pistol and pulled back the hammer, aiming it at Ronnie who was walking towards them, emanating murder. “You fucking traitor!” He snarled.

She shrugged. “You're a cunt anyway,” she said and pulled the trigger. The bullet clipped Ryan's ear before hitting Ronnie directly in the center of his forehead. Ronnie’s body fell to the ground again. She opened the metal furnace door and threw in the pistol. She handed Ryan the bag. He looked in and saw some clothes as she walked over to Ronnie’s limp body and lifted him up effortlessly and moved him towards the furnace before throwing him in like a rag doll. She shut the door and turned on the furnace. “They're expecting ashes. His will do,” she said. Ryan stared at the fire through the small glass opening. He would have thought that he would've hated fire, but he didn't. It was beautiful. “Don't worry, he'll live,” She said and looked at Ryan with a sickeningly sweet smile, a smile that Ryan would never forget, something that could never be erased from his memory. He staggered and let out a shaky breath. “Breezy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you can't figure out how to phrase things but everything's perfect in your mind


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally managed to update this

Jon lead Dallon to the crime scene. Dark scorched earth was soaked with water and covered in dirt to combat the fire. The car was wrecked and the bodies were already removed. The smell of burned flesh and leather clung to the air. Broken glass and rocks littered the area. The smell was atrocious and it made Dallon sick to his stomach. He couldn’t handle it anymore and walked back to Jon. “Can you take me home?” 

Jon nodded and led Dallon back to his car. The drive was silent and Dallon went to bed the second he got home. He didn’t want to deal with the rest of today. 

  
  


Breezy waited for Ryan to change into the clothes from the bag she gave him. She noticed that he was actively avoiding looking at his own skin. After that Breezy led Ryan to her car waiting outside, where she took off the paramedic uniform and put something more casual on. Ryan didn’t react. He just stared down at his lap, rubbing his hands, feeling the still healing skin. “Where we going?” Ryan asked.

“To see a friend. She’s basically a supplier, a witch,” Breezy explained.

“A witch?” Ryan repeated. 

Breezy nodded. “A witch.” She glanced over and frowned. “Don’t give me that look, you’re a fucking demon now, this shouldn't be surprising. We exist, witches exist, angels, hellhounds, et cetera, et cetera.”

“A- _ angels _ ?” Ryan sputtered. 

Breezy nodded. “They’re cunts, always trying to cover up the supernatural existence. Can’t wait to kill all those winged bastards,” she growled. 

Ryan didn’t ask anything else as Breezy drove into the city. Ryan ran through all his memories, and large chunks of memories were missing. Faces became blurred but he could remember names. Things that he once remembered when he woke up were no longer there. It wasn’t strange,  it was just unsettling. Faces that he should remember were no longer relevant. Their faces were just blank slates, just a mask of their skin tone. But there was one person that seemed to leave a hole inside; Dallon, the memories were haunting. Ryan wanted to remember his face, but he couldn’t. He was tall, slim, dark hair, but other than that, there was nothing. Blurred memories and faces. Ryan just felt hollow. Empty. Things that used to be so trivial and automatic were no longer there. 

 

* * *

 

Breezy stopped the car in a parking lot by a cell phone store and exited the car. Ryan did the same and Breezy locked the car. He followed her into the store where the only person in there was a familiar looking woman. “Sarah! Got a newbie here,” Breezy said. She leaned on one of the counters. 

_ ‘Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, why is that name so familiar?’ _ Ryan thought to himself. 

Sarah nodded and opened one something under the counter, pulling out a new phone, turning it on. “Privilege of being a new baddie, free data,” she handed the phone to Ryan and winked. 

Breezy clicked her tongue. “Anything you want to tell Ryan here?”

Sarah thought for a bit and tapped her chin. “Don’t focus too hard on your past, I guess.” 

“Why not?” Ryan asked.

Sarah shrugged. “I’m not one of those black eyed bitches, how am I supposed to know? Just heard from one of my contacts that his past ruined him.” 

Didn’t sound so strange, but that faceless man still haunted his memories. He knew who he was a few minutes ago, why couldn’t he remember now?

Breezy slung her arm over Ryan’s shoulder. “What’s up Ry? What are you thinking about?”

He glanced over at her. “Someone that used to be familiar, I guess.”

“How so?”

“I can’t remember his face.”

Sarah spoke up. “Maybe part of you doesn’t want to remember, that’s why you aren’t. Maybe he did something to you or there are feelings of hate or something, I don’t know.” She pulled out her phone and started texting someone. “Don’t think too much about it. Maybe you’ll remember, maybe you won’t. Sometimes it’s better to forget.”

Breezy nodded. It wasn’t rare for a demon to forget prior memories, but they would normally retain  _ some  _ aspect of it. Who knows. Maybe he forgot Dallon? Perhaps it’s for the best. It didn’t matter to Breezy if Ryan wanted to remember or not. Who knows, maybe he could become a sin. If they focus too hard on an emotion, then they become the embodiment of that emotion. Breezy thought about what sin Ryan could potentially be. Maybe Pride? Envy? Wrath? Pride and Wrath seemed more plausible. 

 

They said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Sarah stayed at her day job and Breezy left Ryan to do whatever while she went home. She gave him her number and warned Ryan to be careful. After that, Ryan just started walking. He had his hood up and his hands were in his pockets, just letting his legs take him wherever.

  
Soon enough, Ryan stopped in front of a quaint little house in Salt Lake City. It seemed familiar. Someone walked by the living room window. The same faceless man in his memories. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, basically, the thing with the sins is basically the crude way I explained it. A demon focuses too much on a specific emotion and they become the embodiment of the sin

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I'm crying a little
> 
> The crash would probably take place somewhere near Summit Park, Altus, Grandeur Peak or Mt Aire. Probably Mt Aire because the turn looks sharp enough


End file.
